Stars
by Salty Peanuts
Summary: China shows up at Russia's doorstep in a wonderfully horny drunken mess, and before playing the caring best friend and listening to all his boring troubles, Russia's determined to get a little somethin' somethin' first. Rochu, light lemon, twoshot.
1. Russia's fix

I got this idea when I was drunk one day, and was wondering about how China would behave when he's under the influence when he's usually so principled and well put together. Onhonhonhon...

The next installment will be uploaded in a few days. I'm working five days straight, so hopefully I'll get some time in between to write.

**04/08/12**- Edited. What the fuck had I just written? Wow, so bad. The first time around, I had written this after having a few. I think the whole brainstorming, writing, and editing process for this story had just been one huge boozefest, and I'm actually staring at the screen with a sober mind right now going shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit .

Anyways, I hope the new version is better. -shoots self- For some reason, I just haven't been happy with anything I've written for the past few weeks.

I hope you guys'll enjoy asshole!Ivan and crossdressing!Yao. Just as a warning.

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For Russia, Wednesdays couldn't get any more ordinary. He woke up, dealt with his boss yelling at him for another eight hours at work, went to the market, and came home as soon as he could. As usual, Russia was looking forward to a hot dinner, quick shower, and another lonely night in front of the TV, flipping through random channels until he found something that shed enough blood to be deemed watchable.

But, all of that was tossed aside when he found a little gift sitting at his doorstep, the sight of which made him splatter his week's worth of groceries on the cold, hard pavement.

It was wrapped in silk and topped with a big bow redder than the colour of his old flag. The present itself was perfect, pristine, and whoever left it on his doorstep must had been well-informed of Russia's good taste.

Russia, due to previous promises made to himself, was a little reluctant in unravelling this delectable treat with his own bare hands. He figured he should show a little more restraint this time, so that his present wouldn't scream "rape" and sprint to the other side of the border as quickly as his long, beautiful legs could carry him. Or else, Russia would a happy time explaining to his boss why gas sales have suddenly plummeted, and not to mention, why all these nukes were now pointing at the Kremlin.

China was sitting beside his door, hugging his legs and rocking back and forth, staring into outer space through a pair of swollen, pitch-black pupils. The bow on his head tilted cutely to the side, and made him look like he had a pair of fluffy ears.

Russia had no idea why China had decided to appear at his front porch, not that he was complaining. At least his favourite thing in the world didn't have to be hunted down this time.

"Um, Yao? Are you okay?"

Russia reached out a hand, but quickly stopped upon remembering the restraining order that China had made him sign only two days ago.

_Control yourself, Ivan. _Russia thought to himself._ Make friends first, and reel the prize in when the time comes, da? Kolkolkol..._

God, it should be illegal for China to wear women's clothing, or at least a red nightgown so short that it only barely brushed the valley between his thighs. It made Russia want to rip it off and claim his present right then and there, and willingly break all of the gentleman codes in the book like clay pots.

Besides, even if Russia did do anything him, it was not that anyone would find out. He had lived completely alone in his house for the past twenty years with no one to disrupt him, and as for poor old China there...

_Well..._

Russia tilted his head to see that there were a couple of empty vodka bottles laying beside China that he hadn't noticed before, and it didn't take a genius to deduce that the man who had claimed to passionately hate alcohol and probably never touched a drop in his life, was just drinking. Which meant, even if Russia laid a finger on him, his lovely little head probably wouldn't remember! Teehee, today must be his lucky day.

But before Russia could even touch a hair on his head, he was thrown back as China pounced all four limbs upon him.

"Hello, Ivan," he purred into Russia's ear, slurring his words a bit, "D'ya miss me?"

Russia swallowed a knot in his throat, and could almost feel his skin melt as China took no time in planting messy kisses along his cheek and neck.

Yes, Russia did miss him, every fucking day. But for now, Russia's mind teetered from whether he should tell the truth to China's previous question, or should he even answer at all. Whether China even had the sobriety to take Russia's confession seriously, or would everything be slept off for the night, his efforts wasted.

Thankfully, China silenced him with a kiss on the lips, while still clinging onto him like a cat with claws. Russia's eyes widened in surprise as he stumbled back into the wall.

When the smaller man slipped his tongue into the other's dry mouth, Russia realized how China tasted oddly enough like his _own_ vodka that was kept in his fridge. Though, Russia decided not to dwell upon how the man could have hacked through the relentless security system guarding his estate, and instead relished in China's desperate, clumsy, albeit successful attempt at seduction.

China broke them apart finally, making the other man whimper at the loss. A thin strand of saliva dripped from between the corner of their mouths.

"Ivan, can't you stay with me for one night?" China whispered between panting, swollen lips, looking him straight in the eye, "I'm lonely..."

Russia, who was more than happy to abide, dropped them both onto the ground, his bottom hitting the pavement with a thud. In answer to China's question, Russia returned the favour with another, more ferocious kiss.

"I'm so lonely, Ivan, are you too blind to see that?" China barely mumbled from between breaths, refusing to tear them apart. He grabbed a fistful of his partner's silver hair, and pulled him closer, deeper.

Lean hips grinded against Russia's own, while China's small, dainty hands mauled his shirt open, making loose buttons pitter-patter off to the side. A moan cracked from the back of Russia's throat before he could stop himself, as China's lips moved down to his chin, neck, and to the dip of his collarbone, peppering his lips at every inch of flesh he could find.

Though he knew China must be upset at something, Russia wasn't even listening to what the other was grumbling about from between his mouth at work. Russia's ears, no, his whole head, was pounding with blood. His eyes had gone blind to everything except for this vixen riding him, running his hot, wet tongue across his chest, and even giving his nipple a quick bite.

"That hurt, Yao..."

_Hurt so good_.

China didn't say anything, and probably didn't hear him in the first place. Instead, Ivan felt a drops of warm liquid drip onto his chest. It took him awhile to realize that they were tears. China's tears.

Russia felt his zipper being pulled down, and his cock stiffened upon exposure to the chilly air.

Upon seeing him in his glory, China but rolled his eyes and let a few curse words slur out of his mouth. The smaller man buried his head back down, and slipped the thick member between pink, puckered lips.

Russia roared in sheer delight, and arched his neck back until the brick wall dug into his scalp. His one hand pushed against the wall, in attempt to plunge himself deeper down the other's throat.

He wanted to push China past his brim, just to see how he would be. Would he laugh, or would he cry? Or, if Russia's worst fears were confirmed, would his angel just lay numb because he felt nothing for him at all in the first place?

He wanted to find out. Curiosity was itching, burning him, despite that the back of his mind was yelling for him to stop, stop the madness he was allowing to let loose.

Russia had already made so much progress in building trust between his southern neighbour. Outside of the meetings and conferences, when they're no longer under their bosses' prying eyes, China actually called him a friend. Though being called a "friend" still made Russia's heart sting a little, at least it was better than being spat in the face and punched in the gut by the person he wanted more than anything in the world.

But he was finding it harder and harder to resist. That sweet mouth, those long, dusky lashes, his hypnotic voice moaning his name— it was as if China was imploring to be taken.

Russia felt like he was being teased with every flirt and flutter of the other's tongue, only to see how long it would take before the harpy was crushed by the bear's claws.

_It won't be long, Yao, and when the time comes, you would be sore that you can't go anywhere without me carrying you. _

Russia grinned to himself, and before China could take notice, he pulled his ponytail free, as a skein of inky-black hair cascaded down his shoulders. _China looked better this way_, Russia mused, and tugging at his locks was just his idea of revenge.

"Am I pleasing you now?" came a bitter, disgusted growl from down between Russia's legs.

After letting out a dry, shaking gasp in response, Russia tumbled down from his reverie, as he clenched his hips and released himself into China's mouth. In that split second, he felt no guilt, no remorse, only pleasure. Relentless, unbridled pleasure.

Russia sat on the ground, panting, a sheet of sweat decorating his bare chest. He looked up, and gave the grey skies above a fluttering sigh. No stars were coming out tonight.

Exhausted, spent, Russia's head drooped down and met gazes with his darling China, the corners of those petal-like lips dripping, oozing with _his_ essence, and no one elses. God he loved this man.

Russia's heart stopped upon being shot a frigid glare from the other's chocolate-brown eyes. Oh great, now he's going to pay the price for having pushed him too far.

He leaned over and held out his arms, but China had dismounted and rolled to the side before he could be captured in an embrace. Russia sighed, and began to comb his hand through his friend's shrivelled head. The bow tie he had been wearing laid forgotten to the side.

"Yao, I'm sorry?" was his awkward apology. He gave a peck on the side of China's wet cheek, but hissed when the smaller man responded by slashing his feline claws at the side of his face.

He swore and patted some blood off his sleeve, while telling himself that it wasn't his fault that China was so upset. Russia didn't exactly _beg_ to be blown.

"Are you satisfied, Ivan?"

Russia gulped. "Yes," he said. No point in lying now.

"I'm glad." China said, and chuckled at nothing in particular, "I'm glad..."

Goosebumps dashed down Russia's spine upon the sight of China licking off the blood off his nails, smacking his lips together at the taste. China flicked his gaze carelessly back at Russia, peering from beneath hooded eyes, and rolled his finger, urging him to come closer.

Russia was hesitant at first, but his mind knew it couldn't resist for long.

How could he deny China anything?

His knees gave in, and leaned forward until his mouth was, once again, only inches away from devouring him. China smelled like flowers, clean laundry, and the vodka in Russia's fridge that he had meant to leave for himself...

Russia had always been a sober drinker, so he knew this would be as close as he'd ever get to intoxication.

"Oh Ivan~" China sang, as Russia felt a finger tap at his metal belt buckle. He looked down and saw that not only was his fly still open, but also that the other man's hand seemed eager to be back at work, trying to bring him to life for a second round.

Russia chuckled and shook his head, but leaned closer to hook China's lips once more. China reached a hand up. His long, slim fingers just were about to caress the other's blushing cheeks, until...

Flick.

China slid off his body in a fit giggles, as Russia clutched his abused forehead with one hand and aching crotch in another, spitting out a string of ungodly curse words at the cruel, cruel man, and at himself for having so willingly become the victim.

**TBC**

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Aww, Yao. What had gotten him so upset for him to want to do such naughty things on a whim?

I don't even know. I think I have this thing for writing wordy, yet plotless stories.

Like it so far? Please review!

Thanks so much!


	2. China's fix

Here's installment number two! Enjoy!

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When China finally admitted to having broken into his house for drinks, Russia but smirked devilishly, pulled the other man's dress off, and casually informed that he was going to be punished. Though Russia had expected to receive a bloody nose in return, he got none. China had stuck out his tongue playfully, and bent over to offer a pair of plump, blushing, spankable buttcheeks.

For the rest of the day, Russia made sure that China didn't have enough free time to put his clothes back on.

Our heroes had stumbled to the edge of Russia's estate, laughing and screwing around, leaving nothing but destruction in their path. Because their previous antics had rendered Russia's centuries-old flat uninhabitable, the pair found themselves laying out under the stars a few hours later.

The cool evening breeze whistled through the decaying, though still well-trimmed lawn of Russia's backyard, making the blades of grass shiver, as well as the smaller man's body. Russia wrapped his arms around his lover and gently kissed him on the forehead, while China shuffled to a more comfy position, using Russia's belly as a pillow. The saline scent of their lovemaking still lingered in the air, and after the numerous games they had played, Russia's muscles felt sore, deliciously sore. His now limp manhood was left unsheathed inside of China, because Russia was too tired, and perhaps didn't even want to pull out. He wanted to feel China's warmth for as long as possible, down to the last sweet, addicting drop.

Scattered around them were all the vodka bottles that they had hauled out of Russia's fridge, without a sip left in any of them. Though there were enough alcohol to have easily killed two full-grown men, no ambulances were in sight. Both parties were alive and delighted, even if their IQs may had dropped a good couple of dozens.

They were countries after all, and thankfully, God was smart when he created them. He made sure that their substance tolerance was high enough so they wouldn't die such embarrassing deaths.

Thankfully, China's raging libido had finally calmed down, after wearing Russia down to the bone.

Now, Russia hoped that they could lay here peacefully and just... talk, if that wasn't too much to ask. Before today, Russia honestly had never thought there was such a thing as getting enough of China. But now, he almost wanted to change his mind.

Careful not to hurt him, Russia cupped his lover by the hips and lifted him off his throne. China flopped off to the side without protest, his legs still dripping with seed.

Russia shuffled towards him and hooked his arms protectively around China's waist, humming himself a delighted tune. He heard China grumble something unintelligible in response, and smiled.

Apparently, Russia had forgotten that the other man didn't subscribe to such flippant romantic matters as spooning after sex. Or perhaps was it because China secretly liked being held, but was too stubborn to admit it? No one knew.

Russia pulled his lover even closer into his cradle, until he felt China's bony back dig into his chest. Sighing, Russia proceeded to plant lazy kisses along the crook of his neck, suckling and biting the milky skin. "So, what had gotten my Yao-Yao so upset today?" He murmured.

"I don't want to talk about it." China snapped.

"But talking will make you feel better, da?"

Russia was left hanging for a few, long minutes, and eventually, China finally turned around, his face blushing a little. "You promise to not say anything to tell anyone?" He asked, poking the other's arm accusingly.

Russia chuckled. "Yes I promise, love." He said, pinching him in the cheek.

"You better not tell, Vanya," China said poutingly, batting his eyelashes in a drunken attempt to look endearing, "Or else you know I'll cut your tongue out with a knife, right?"

"If I break my promise, I'll cut my own tongue out and show it to you."

China snorted in response.

A few seconds later, he began, "Okay Ivan, so... You remember the last UN meeting, and the one before that, and the one before that?"

"Uh, yeah? What's wrong?"

China's eyes rolled to the side, as his head fell into a sad droop. Tears were beginning to flood out from the corners of his eyes, as he nudged closer with Russia.

"Well... I guess it just seems for the past few years, I can't even walk down the meeting hall without a whole row of people giving me dirty looks..." China sniffled, "R-Remember back d-during the Great War? We got along so well with Arthur and Francis... Nowadays...They don't want anything to do with me..."

China choked out a sob and collapsed his face into Russia's shoulder, who patted his head awkwardly. Russia fished out his precious scarf from the discarded pile of undergarments, and dabbed the smaller man's cheeks clean of tears.

Without warning, China snatched it and blew his nose, making Russia whimper at the loss.

Sitting up with great effort, China continued, rubbing his nose, "Just last week, my sister even gave me the finger! Can you believe it? My little Mei, making such obscene gestures! All I did was tell her to sit up straight because hunching was bad for her back! Otherwise, she'd have to come back to my house for acupuncture every week so she wouldn't end up looking like a camel... That ungrateful brat, after _everything_ we've been through together..."

Russia braced for impact, as China descended down another emotional rollercoaster dive. The smaller man fell into Russia's arms like a puddle, wailing and pounding his chest with his fists. Russia sat still like a block of stone.

"Um... Yao?" Russia dared to ask a few minutes later, after the mini-tornado in his arms had calmed down a bit.

"W-What now?" China hiccupped.

"I like you, Yao. I like you a lot." Russia admitted, smiling to himself satisfyingly as he did, "I don't understand why no one else likes you, but that doesn't matter. They are not worth our time anyways, right? And as long as we have each other, we—"

Russia somersaulted on his back, coughing and choking on the vodka bottle that had just been shoved down his throat. China, having abandoned his previous angsty rut in a millisecond, spun off into a giggling, or rather, cackling spell. He had fallen on his back and was kicking his bare feet up in the air. The icy, almost sadistic tinge to his voice sent shivers down Russia's spine.

"Drink more, Ivan," China called out between laughs, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, "You're such an insolent boob when you're sober, you know that?"

Russia dumped the last few drops down his throat in indignation, and threw the bottle aside.

Now, he was starting to have creeping suspicions that China's pretty head was actually as lucid as a glass of water, and that all of this had been staged.

China had always possessed an affinity for riddles and deception. He loved to play pretend on the surface, and form undercurrent schemes. Which meant, the last thing he'd _ever_ do was give up and get passionately... drunk.

Russia almost smacked himself upon thinking of that, and cursed himself for not having been reminded of it sooner. He _knew_ China. After centuries of pursuing him, obsessing over him, Russia could proudly say that no one in the world knew him better.

_What trick is my little puppet trying to pull now?_ He wondered. Russia was starting to think that this was all just a game of mental hide-and-seek that China had created, with which Russia was becoming more and more fascinated.

He loved puzzles. He didn't invent Tetris for nothing.

Smirking, Russia crawled to where China laid and straddled him, his knees resting snugly beside the other man's curves. He dipped down to capture China's lips, and darted his tongue into the other's mouth like an arrow, trying to pry every last flavour out of him. Callused fingertips grazed across supple, golden skin, making it prickle, and making the man underneath him shiver.

"Tell me Yao," he whispered into China's ear, which had blushed red to the root, "Who else has been bothering you lately? I'll hunt them all down for you and bring you their heads."

"Well, Japan's been getting on my nerves," China growled under his breath, his thin, penciled eyebrows scrunched in feigned anger, "He's been after a few of _my_ islands, and saying mean things behind my back."

"Well, it's Japan," Russia rose up and shrugged carelessly,"You never liked him much to begin with. Why start now, right?"

His lover scowled at him.

"Come on, Yao. Who else?" Russia pressed on, running chilling fingertips down China's sternum, but his hand was slapped away.

China huffed and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Well, _fine_." He said, "What about England and France? They've also been total bullies to me recently!"

Russia wagged his finger, and winked. "I don't know, love. Nowadays, it'd be more likely the other way around, da? Who has the guts these days to mess with big bad Mr. China anyway?"

China's mouth gaped in insult.

He couldn't believe it.

Was getting a slight pinch of affection from Russia so damn difficult? China had previously thought that if the stubborn man knew he was intoxicated, Russia may let his lips loose and say something China actually wanted to hear, because he wouldn't remember.

But, China's initial plan had been pillaged, and he ended up unleashing his own burning sexual frustration at Russia, thus scaring him out of giving a teensy sliver of the romance that China had sought after in the first place.

China and Russia had been dating for so many years now. Was getting that hard-headed bear to say those three little words so damned impossible?

"It's America, okay? I hate America! Happy?!" China screamed at the top of his lungs, those accursed words that Russia had wanted to hear all along, echoed across the mile-long radius of his estate, incinerating the peaceful atmosphere like an atomic bomb. The words weren't even true to begin with. He didn't really hate Alfie...

"Why?" Russia asked gleefully. Finally, he admitted it!

… _Why?_

China blinked at him without saying anything, and Russia blinked back, trying his hardest to keep his face straight.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Anxiety was beginning to drip into Russia's gut, while China was probably enjoying being a tease.

Finally, he gave in, and gestured Russia to get off him, which he obeyed. Sitting up in a more comfortable position and wiping his tears away, China began, in a perfectly normal voice that made Russia wonder if he had ever been drunk at all, "Okay, Ivan, it's hard explain, but let's put it this way—"

Russia nodded slowly.

"You know how there are fifty stars on Alfie's flag, and mine's only five? I have always hated how he has ten times more than I do, you know?" China hung his head down, and mumbled bashfully, "I suppose that sometimes, it'd be nice if I won too..."

"Yeah, but America's is not only beating you, but the whole world." Russia tried to reason, but to no avail, "Nobody has more stars on their flag than he does."

China, in response, cast Russia a dirty look. He didn't know if Russia was really clueless, or trying to be an asshole again.

But instead of yelling at him, China turned away, bit his lip, and hugged his legs together. It was getting cold outside without his clothes on.

Russia shuffled over to him and put a hand on his slumped shoulder. "Well, if it's bothering you that much, I'll help you get more stars to put on there."

"You will?"

"Yes, if it makes my Yao-Yao happy." He replied.

As China beamed up at his lover, his eyes sparkled like the milky way.

"Then next weekend, instead of getting drunk alone in your house and wasting your life away, wanna come over and help decorate my flag?"

Russia nodded.

China squealed, and turned to give Russia a light kiss on the cheek. It was simple, short, and sweet, but it made Russia flush a deep red for the first time tonight, not that it was visible in the dark anyways.

Russia tipped the other's chin upwards for a kiss of his own, in hopes of turning this brief exchange into something more. But, China quickly announced that he was getting tired and wanted to get some sleep, and tumbled off to the side before Russia could lay another finger on him.

* * *

Looking up at the sky, Russia was glad to see that the stars had decided to peek out after all, despite the awning grey clouds from earlier. He smiled to himself. Today had been a good day.

China had been sleeping peacefully for the past few hours, curled up like a kitten on Russia's lap. Russia reached over to grab his coat, and threw it around the shoulders of the other man, who willingly cozied up to it while mumbling something in his sleep.

As much as Russia wanted to be with China, he knew that he wasn't a perfect person, nor a perfect country. He was selfish, bossy, and could be a bit of a bully sometimes. Not everyone in the world could handle the spitfire, and he was one of the few. But then again, Russia was grateful of the multiple times when China had to put up with him, and wasn't scared away.

When China had said that no one liked him nowadays, Russia also felt the same way for himself. Recently, it was like everyone was shunning them away. Russia thought it was probably because he and China had been spending so much time together, that they had been hiding away from everyone else. All of their bourgeois friends probably would have never thought that two broken countries like Russia and China could be a threat. But little did they know, their broken pieces fitted each other's perfectly.

Russia let out a deep breath and looked down at his partner, combing through his loose, still damp locks.

"I love you, Yao." He whispered, though he knew that the other man couldn't hear him.

Russia promised to himself that the next time that those words were said, China would be able to.

Russia loved China, even if he looked less than spiffy right now, and— as he bent down to kiss him again— tasted like his own vomit.

If it would make China happy, Russia would gladly pick the stars right out of the sky for him. All he needed was to stand on his tip-toes, right?

**Fin.**

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My first attempt at writing something cute, if you can call it that. ^^ Hope you guys liked it. I'm not really good with writing light-hearted fanfics, but I tried my best with this one.

Back to the heavy stuff for me, lol.

Please review, if you enjoyed it! And also, I encourage those of you who have read this to write a fluff fic of your own. There is never enough Rochu fluff, but I suck at writing it, as much as I love reading. xD


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